Category: Going East

I did my first real author reading at a conference on Saturday – the Fantastic Grown-up Book Fair happened to be located about a half hour drive from my house. I decided to sign up to do an author reading – figuring I might as well try jumping into the community of local authors.

There were a lot of self-published local authors at the fair. Most of the books in trade paperback form were selling for $20 or $25. The price point highlights that I’m undervaluing the print edition of my current book.

This is the first time I’ve done a reading on the Going East Canada book.

Here is what I read, I’d love to hear what you think of it. Please leave a comment.

Excerpt from: Going East Across Canada: An Epic Cycling Journey by Rebecca J. Hogue

Target publication for this book is Summer 2027.

This story takes place on the ancestral and treaty territories of the Anishinaabe peoples, specifically, it is within Treaty 3 territory. It is home to the Agency One First Nations—Couchiching, Mitaanjigamiing, Naicatchewenin, and Nigigoonsiminikaaning.

Treaty 3 concluded in 1873 between the Anishinaabe Nation and the Crown. Treaty 3 remains a living framework shaping jurisdictions and cooperation between nations.

The Axe Murderers

It’s 4 pm on a Friday as we leave Fort Frances Ontario — a four-hour drive or four-day bike ride — west of Thunder Bay on highway 11.

After two hours of riding, I know we aren’t going to make it to the campground before dark and I’m hungry. Given we are still in bear territory, we don’t want to be making dinner at the same place we are camping. Plus, if we stop for dinner by a lakeside or creek, we won’t need access to water when we camp.

After a small bridge over a creek, we pull off and park our bikes on the shoulder of the road. I pull the kitchen bag off my bike and bring it down to a landing a few feet below the road. On a rock shelf that is the perfect height, I setup our camp stove and start preparing food. Scott pulls out the water pump and heads down to the creek to purify water.

As I’m cooking, a car pulls up beside our bikes. I’m nervous as Scott isn’t aware of the vehicle. A man opens his window and calls out to me “are you planning on camping there tonight?”. Part of me is thinking, uh no, our tent wouldn’t fit, while another part of me is concerned, is this someone that doesn’t like cyclists? I politely explain that we are not sure yet where we will camp, but that we will likely try to find a place ten or so kilometres up the road.

The man asks us about our bikes and our trip, which normally I would enjoy; however, our dinner is starting to burn. I need to shift my attention away from the car and towards dinner preparations. Scott is still down at the creek, blissfully unaware of the conversation.

Seeing that I am distracted, the man bids me farewell and the car drives off.

Just as we are sitting down to eat dinner, the car re-appears. The window opens; it is a woman this time. She tells us “we have a cottage with a spare room, just up the road a few kilometres. You are welcome to join us this evening”.

I don’t even have to look at Scott before accepting the offer. This is exactly the type of serendipitous invitation that we cherish.

To find out why this is called the Axe Murderers – you’ll need to buy the book.

Cycling along the northern shore of Lake Superior between Thunder Bay and Wawa, I notice how few towns and services there are. We can ride for four to six hours without passing a gas station or convenience store, making me appreciate every mom-and-pop shop that appears out of nowhere on these long stretches of lake, rocks, and trees.

We are joined by two touring cyclists who have been on the road for several years. Since we are riding about the same pace and will be on the road together for the next three days, we decided to travel together. Because they are on an ultra-low budget, they cannot afford to stay in campgrounds. Rather, they choose to wild camp, stealthy setting up their tent for the night, leaving no trace when they peddle off in the morning. We are looking forward to learning more about how to find places for wild camping, as we haven’t been particularly good at it.

After several hours of pedalling in the heat of the afternoon sun, we pull into a small convenience store. We know we will be wild camping tonight, so we need to find a source of water, not just for drinking now, but also for cooking dinner tonight and wiping our sweaty bodies down before sleeping. We also hope to top up the charge on our laptop.

I go into the washroom and am delighted by clean running water. I use the sink to rinse the sweat from my hair and my face, enjoying the sensation of cool clean water on my parched skin. I fill my water bottles and our water bladder for camping. Meanwhile, Scott scouts out the store and buys a bag of chips to snack on.

After using the facilities, I walk through the store hoping to find a few small things. I want to buy something that we can use for dinner, but their shelves don’t have much food on them. It is already late in the camping season (after Labour Day) and they are a seasonal store. Still, I want to help support the store. Eventually I come across a can of beans. They are heavy to carry and they are expensive, but we could use them. I buy the beans and then leave.

Our travelling companions use the facilities, fill their water, but don’t purchase anything.

I do not know what happened while I was in the bathroom, but the store owner is not happy with us. She accuses us of stealing electricity because we have plugged our laptop into an outside outlet while we were enjoying a snack on the shaded side of the store. We didn’t think to ask permission. We are too used to being in tourist welcome centres where plugging in is acceptable behaviour. We apologize and quickly pack up and leave.

One of the themes that I’m exploring is that of the ethics of low budget travel. I have read many adventure cycling travel stories about people who leave on adventures with very little money – sometimes not enough to adequately feed themselves. Part of their story is about the adversity of their experiences. The low budget constraint means that they needed to reach out to people, sometimes knocking on doors, to find a place to set up their tents for the night. It meant that they met more local people, but at what price? Leaning on the infrastructure and services that are in place without giving back feels wrong to me.

Our story is different. Budget was not an adversity that we had to overcome. We tried to stay on a somewhat low budget, but it was never so low that we went hungry or that we couldn’t get a room in a hotel when we needed to.

This brings me to my question for all my readers. Are you interested in this aspect of our trip? Does the idea of ethical travel when you have the privilege of budget and a Canadian passport sound interesting?

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